Of Nightmares and Daydreams
by LadyofDodge
Summary: Matt Dillon clasped his hands behind his head, his eyes growing heavy as he watched her. He had known Kitty Russell for about a year, and, in that time, they had become good friends. In fact, along with Doc and Chester, they formed a close little group, frequently sharing morning coffee and evening meals. He sometimes thought he'd like Kitty to be more than just a friend...
1. Chapter 1

**Of Nightmares and Daydreams**

**MM/ATC to "Bloody Hands"**

Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit...just fond memories of these wonderful characters.

Chapter 1

Note: This chapter contains dialogue from the episode "Bloody Hands," season 2, episode 21, written by John Meston, directed by Andrew V. McLaglen, air date February 16, 1957.

**xxx**

"Warm up the frying pan. I got `em all cleaned and ready to go."

"That didn't take long."

"Yeah, I'm a devil when it comes to cleanin' fish. Look, you fry `em. I did my job." He grinned when he saw her roll her eyes at his slightly cocky male attitude.

"Oh, that's what I love, a man who needs waiting on. Maybe you'd like a cup of coffee to keep you awake while you watch me cook dinner."

Matt chuckled."Fine, as long as it's good and hot."

"Well, now, if it isn't just exactly right, Matt, I want you to let me know, and I'll fix it for you."

He laughed at her teasing sarcasm, stretched his back, and settled his long frame under the low-hanging branches of an old cottonwood tree. He leaned back, feeling relaxed and free in the vast outdoors. This was the life he loved. The marshal's job kept him confined within the four walls of an office more than he liked, but that was all in the past now. He had taken off his gunbelt, sent his letter of resignation to Washington, and tossed the big silver badge on the desk to await the next man. It felt good to be through with killing.

Through half-closed eyes he lazily watched Kitty line the catfish they had caught in a neat row in the cast iron skillet. He had laughed when he picked her up in the alley behind the Long Branch early that morning, frying pan in hand, but the pretty redhead had insisted on bringing it along. _Women, always wanting to be domestic. Didn't she know the way to cook fish was to stick 'em with a twig and hold them over the fire?_

Still, this particular woman was pretty cute. _Cute? By golly, she's downright beautiful, _he thought to himself, especially today, not rouged and painted, but fresh and freckled and feminine in a…well…in an innocent sort of way with that mane of flaming red hair cascading across her shoulders. And he liked the dress, too, not one of her feathery or sequined work dresses that revealed both her bosom and her knees, but a soft white cotton with splashes of blue flowers that danced before his eyes when she knelt to hand him his coffee cup.

He clasped his hands behind his head, his eyes growing heavy as he watched her. He had known Kitty Russell for about a year, and, in that time, they had become good friends. In fact, along with Doc and Chester, they formed a close little group, frequently sharing morning coffee and evening meals. He sometimes thought he'd like Kitty to be more than just a friend, and on those rare occasions when he had openly flirted with her, she didn't seem at all opposed to the idea. But he always held back, remembering the words of his mentor. "Never take on nothin' personal that you can't give up easy. There's no place in a lawman's life for a woman."

_Yeah, but, I haven't worn a badge for almost a week now. I'm not a lawman anymore…and it's been a very long time since I've courted a girl, _he mused as his eyes fell shut.

**xxx**

After settling the skillet into the fire and glancing at her sleeping friend, Kitty wandered off toward the creek. She was picking wildflowers and humming to herself when a shout of "NO, DON'T DO IT!" reached her ears, causing her to drop the colorful bunch of daisies and prairie grasses she had gathered. As she started back up the creek bank, she could hear Matt's voice, oddly strangled and strange. "Drop…gun...don't make m'shoot...don't make me kill..." When she crested the bank, she saw him—still asleep where she had left him, but thrashing about and mumbling. Many of his words were indistinct, but "T'much blood... bodies...not murderer," came clearly to her ears.

She quickly covered the short distance, knelt beside the sleeping man and placed a gentle hand on his chest. "Matt, Matt, wake up..." Before she could say another word, he bolted up, instinctively reaching for the gun he no longer wore and simultaneously knocking her over backward. "Matt, it's Kitty...wake up. You're having a bad dream," she managed to say as she gasped for air. His eyes were open now, but wild and unfocused. His face was dripping with sweat, and his big body was trembling as he pinned her against the ground.

"Matt, it's all right. It's Kitty. You're safe. It's just a bad dream. Please let me up." Her voice was quiet, soothing, and as she spoke, his flailing stopped. She felt his arms wrap around her, and he burrowed his face against her breast like a frightened child. Still unable to escape from beneath his huge frame, she stroked his back and the sweat-dampened curls at the nape of his neck, whispering, "Relax, Matt. Everything's all right. That must have been some dream you were having—want to tell me about it?"

His only response was to shake his head from side to side and to press even closer against her. She held him in her arms, gently coaxing him back to reality. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and the trembling ceased. He once again became aware of his surroundings and of the beautiful woman lying beneath him. "My God, Kitty, what have I done?" he asked as he rolled off of her and onto the ground. "Did I hurt you?"

"You kinda knocked the wind out of me, but you didn't hurt me." She sat up. "I'm fine, and you have nothing to apologize for." She straightened her skirt and brushed a few escaped curls back from her forehead. "How 'bout you...are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm all right," he answered, staring at a distant spot where the sky touched the vast Kansas prairie.

"I'm not so sure," she whispered under her breath. "Matt..." she began tentatively, "Chester…Chester told me about your nightmare."

"He had no business…"

"Please don't be angry with him. You really scared him the other night at the jail. He had to talk about it to someone, and I think, well, I think you should, too. Talk to someone, I mean. Maybe if you told Doc he could…"

"Oh, sure, I'm gonna tell Doc I'm having bad dreams like a...like a six-year old," he answered scornfully.

Kitty turned so that she was face to face with the big man and folded her legs beneath her full skirts. "Matt, we _are _friends, aren't we?"

"Of course we're friends, Kitty, we're good friends. Why would you ask something like that?"

"Because friends talk to each other, friends—well, they help each other. One friend doesn't just sit by and do nothing when the other one is hurting. You're having nightmares, you quit your job—what's going on? Talk to me, Matt, don't keep everything bottled up inside. Please. You don't have to go through this alone—whatever it is."

He reached out and plucked a seed husk from her skirt. "Maybe you're right, Kitty...maybe I do need..."

The not-too-distant sound of hooves could be heard, and they had just enough time to jump to their feet and brush the burs from Kitty's skirt before they heard the unmistakable sound of Chester's voice calling, "Mister Dillon! Mister Dillon!"

"Damn," Matt swore softly under his breath. They stood staring as Chester climbed breathlessly down from the saddle.

"What's that for?" Matt asked, motioning toward his familiar gunbelt now strapped loosely around his assistant's hips.

"It's for you. Joe Stanger's back in town."

"I don't care about Stanger anymore."

"I don't think you understand, Mister Dillon. He insulted one of the girls at the Long Branch again, and when she slapped him, he shot her. Nobody dared stand up to him. So I got one of the horses out at the hitch rail and I come for you."

"I'm not Marshal any more, Chester. I quit." A flash of anger crept into his tone.

"That don't matter. You can't let him get by with this, you just can't."

"I told you, Chester, I'm through with fighting and killing."

"Mister Dillon, you're the only one in Dodge who can stand up agin him, and you know it."

"Well...maybe so, but I'm still not gonna do it. That girl's dead. I can't help her."

"Mister Dillon, I've been thinkin' and you've been forgittin' something. Men like Stanger and Brandt...they gotta be stopped. They just gotta. I'd do it if I could, but I can't. I just ain't good enough. Most men aren't." Chester's chocolate brown eyes were practically pleading now. "But you are. It's kind of too bad for you that you are, but that's the way it is and there's not a thing you can do about it, not now. It's too late, Mister Dillon. It's way too late."

Recognizing the sincerity in the younger man's voice and eyes, Matt reached for the gunbelt and, with a look of sad resignation in his own eyes, strapped it into place around his hips. With a quiet, "Maybe you'll help Kitty take the fish back," he mounted the borrowed horse and rode away in the direction of Dodge.

As Chester helped Kitty gather up the fishing gear and picnic basket, he couldn't help but notice the charred lump in the cold fire. "What happened to them fish, Miss Kitty?"

"It's a long story, Chester," she sighed. "Let's just say it's way too late for them, too."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Nightmares and Daydreams**

**Chapter 2**

The last customers were gone from the Long Branch, the glasses were washed and dried, and the chairs were stacked neatly on the table tops. Kitty said good night to Bill Pence and was preparing to lock the door behind him when she saw Matt's tall form striding down the boardwalk, the silver badge of a United States Marshal once again pinned over his heart and glistening in the lamplight. He stopped in the doorway and looked around.

"You alone?"

"Olive has a guest upstairs, and I think Laura is reading in her room, but there's no one else around," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Kitty, this afternoon you said that...that I could talk to you."

"Of course, Matt, anytime."

"I think I'd like to do that. Now. Tonight. That is if you…"

"Sure, Matt, just let me close up here." She finished locking the door and quickly walked through the saloon turning down the lamps as she went.

Matt stood with one hip angled against the bar, watching her. As she moved behind it, she saw the sad, haunted look in his eyes. Reaching for two glasses and a full bottle of whiskey, she asked the question to which those weary eyes had already given the answer. "Stanger's dead?"

He stared down at the bar and nodded, muttering as if to himself in a voice rough with fatigue. "Another killing, 'nother body." Then he pushed out a deep breath and raised his head. Taking the bottle from her hand, he spoke softly. "Kitty, about what I said…I would like to talk with you, but that's not all. I'd like to…to _be_ with you tonight."

Without a word, she turned down the last lamp and picked up the two glasses. Coming out from behind the bar, she took his huge hand in hers and silently led him up the stairs.

**xxx**

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Kitty Russell found herself pinned beneath Matt Dillon's massive frame. She was exhausted, but too exhilarated to sleep. Not so Matt. He lay in the sweet circle of her arms sleeping the first peaceful sleep he had known in ages.

_I've been waiting my entire life for this night, _she thought to herself. Oh, there had been other men, way too many other men, but they had been business, and not one of them had ever aroused her body and awakened her senses the way this giant of a man had just done. _Not even Cole,_ she admitted honestly. Not in her wildest dreams, not even in long ago whispered conversations with her best friend Ellie and the other young girls Panacea Sykes had rescued from the streets of New Orleans, never had she dreamed of anything close to the ecstasy she felt in the arms of this gentle lawman. Never before in her young life had any man given her as much pleasure as he had taken from her._ If only I could stay in these arms forever…._

With that last lingering thought, and the feel of Matt's warm breath against her bare breast, she closed her eyes and slept.

**xxx**

Matt rolled onto his back and squinted into the darkness. He glanced toward the window, where the lack of daylight outside told him it was not yet dawn. He turned his head to look again at the beautiful redhead sleeping next to him. Resisting the urge to wake her immediately, he instead allowed his mind to drift back to the night before.

He had talked to Kitty for a long time, revealing details of his life he had never before shared with anyone. He told her how much he hated fighting and killing, how much it repulsed him. _I've been killing men for a living since I was seventeen_. Oh, it had always been honest work and on the right side of the law, but it was killing just the same. During the war the army had called it preserving the Union, and here in the West they called it keeping the peace. But no matter what the name or justification, he detested it. _Taking a life doesn't make me feel like a man, Kitty. It makes me feel sick, physically sick. _At least now, in his job as a lawman, he could take some small comfort in the fact that the men he gunned down were criminals—outlaws and spoilers—who determined their own fate when they made the choice not to live within the law, not innocent boys who had simply had the bad luck to be born in the wrong part of the country.

But in spite of everything, and as much as he abhorred fighting and killing, he loved right and justice even more. _I can't explain it, Kitty, but it's like there's something inside of me._ Yes, it was in his blood, in the very fiber of his being, a living, breathing part of him. Maybe Chester was right. Maybe it was too late for him to do anything else, too late for him to be anyone else—too late for him to have a normal life.

He sighed and turned his attention to the gorgeous woman lying beside him. _Maybe I do need someone in my life. _He grinned as he positioned himself above her and playfully lowered his mouth to the rosy tip of her exposed breast.

Kitty gave a little gasp, and her blue eyes flew open.

"I see you're awake," he grinned. "Are you all right?"

"You have no idea how very all right I am," she answered and beamed broadly as she watched a slow flush creep across his handsome face. "But why are we awake so early?"

"I always get up early, Kitty. In fact, I need to go, need to get out of here."

The soft body beneath him tensed. "Of course. I understand, it certainly wouldn't do for the United States Marshal to be seen leaving the saloon girl's room."

_Apparently it wasn't too early for that fiery temper to be up and flaring. _"Whoa...hold on there, Kitty. It's not that at all. It's just...well, it's just that if anyone knows I'm up here, it could be dangerous for you."

Her brow furrowed. "For me?"

He nodded. "I'm not the most popular man in this town you know. There are a lot of people who would love to hurt me, and if they suspect that you're important to me, they wouldn't think twice about using you to get to me." In that moment, he made a decision. "In fact, if you're going to be my girl, we're going to have to be very careful, we're going..."

Kitty's face was guarded as she interrupted, "Slow down, Matt. You're saying I'm important to you? And you're asking me to be your girl?"

He took her hand in his. "That's what I'm sayin' and that's what I'm askin'." He pushed himself up against the headboard and drew her up with him so that he could see her face. "But I need to be straight with you, Kitty. It's not going to be easy for you, and we…well, I can't get involved in any kind of...of permanent relationship."

"Why not, Matt? You don't have a wife and six kids hidden out on the prairie some place, do you?" she teased.

He shook his head soberly. "No...it's nothing like that. It's the badge on that shirt over there." He glanced toward the chair where his clothes were draped across the back. "It makes me...different from other men. A lawman lives from day to day, Kitty. When I crawl out of my bed in the morning, I have no idea if I'm ever going to crawl back into it or not."

"But, so do…"

He pressed a finger against her lips. "And that means I can't make you any promises about a future together. It means I can't…well…make an honest woman of you. And it means that you'll be in danger."

"Danger doesn't scare me, Matt. But why me? Wouldn't you be better off with some respectable girl from the right side of the tracks?"

He frowned and shook his head. "No 'respectable girl from the right side of the tracks' has ever made me feel the way you do, Kitty. And I'm not talkin' just about last night, although..." His face flushed again at the memory of the pleasure they had shared just a few hours earlier.

"Although _what_?" Kitty challenged with a mischievous smirk as her hand slid along his well-muscled thigh. Moving her hand up and over his hip, she allowed her fingers to caress the long, jagged scar low on his side, the souvenir of a knife fight down along the Rio Grande years ago, he had told her last night.

He captured her exploring hand in his and reluctantly held it away from his body. "Let me finish, Kitty. I don't want you to think that I'm asking just so I can...unh...enjoy the pleasure. I was thinkin' about asking you even before last night. Fact is, that's what I was about to do when Chester came riding up yesterday."

"Really? You were going to ask me to be your girl?" Her sapphire eyes danced with joy.

"Sure was. Honest." He grinned like a little boy and used one long index finger to make an X just left of center on his bare chest. "I like you, Kitty. I like you a lot. You're smart. You're funny. You make me laugh, and I like being with you. And something else that's real important to me, 'specially with this job—I know I can trust you." He paused, uncertain what to say next after what was, for him, a major speech. "You're the one who said I need someone to talk to, and…well, you're a lot cuter than Doc." He paused again and then added seriously, "I'm not sure I'll be any good at this courtin' thing, but if you're willing to take a chance…"

"Oh, I'm willing! I'm more than willing." She nestled her face against his chest. "And I'm flattered, too, Matt. If you're sure it's what you want, I'd be proud to be your girl, your woman."

"I'm sure, Kitty." He dropped a kiss on top of her tangled curls and pulled her closer.

But after a moment she eased back from his embrace and looked up, her eyes meeting his and holding them as she said, "Matt, you haven't asked about this, but I want to tell you anyway, and I want you to know I'm telling you the truth. You see me almost every night in the saloon. You know I need to make a living, and you know the kind of work I do. What you don't necessarily know is that I work only on the first floor. I don't work up here, Matt. When I come upstairs to bed, I come alone."

When he looked at her quizzically, she continued. "It wasn't always like that, you know. Not even when I first came to Dodge. But then I met you, and you treated me with respect. And Doc and Chester, they treated me with respect, too. No one had done that in a very long time, and it felt good. Strange, but good. Then you asked me to the fall sociable." She gave a rueful laugh. "I knew that couldn't end well, but it got me to thinking. If a United States Marshal wasn't ashamed to be seen with me in public…"

She paused, and both her tone and her expression turned wistful. "Time was when I did what life and circumstances forced me to do, and I did whatever I had to do to survive. I'm not real proud of a lot of those things." She lifted her chin. "But I am proud that I was able to keep myself alive. I can't change the past, but I can take control of the present, and I can change the way things will be in the future. That sociable was nearly six months ago." Her honest blue eyes sought his. "And in case it matters to you, Matt, you're the only man who's been in my bed since that night. And that's the way it's going to stay."

"I wondered about that," he said quietly, "but figured I had no right to ask." Then he slid down flat on the bed and lifted her onto his chest. "It matters, Kitty, it matters."

**xxx**

As the first threads of dawn began to streak across the morning sky, Matt Dillon finished pulling on his boots and started to push his large frame up from the soft bed, but he turned back to Kitty once again and whispered into her curls. "I'm afraid this is how it's going to have to be, Kitty, for as long as I wear this badge. For your own sake, no one can know about us. I'll have to come and go in the dark, sneaking up and down the back stairs, never being able to touch you in public...are you sure this is the life you want. If you want to change your mind, I won't hold you to your answer. Are you sure, Kitty?"

She nodded. "I'm sure, Matt. This is what I want. _You're _what I want. You're the best man I've ever known, and you're worth the hiding and the secrecy. I understand how things have to be with us for now, but nothing lasts forever. Someday...someday things will be different. I can wait," she answered as her mouth met his for one last sweet kiss.

The End


End file.
